When New Quits Working

I've run out of new.  This morning I woke up to an internal state that did not match the bright, crisp world outside my window.  Something's out of kilter, hollowed out and brown around the edges.  Nothing's wrong ... as a matter of fact, things are incredibly right.  And yet, something's missing and I think it's the lure of "new."  For three and a half years, I've had a feast of new ... new places, new relationships, new projects, new experiences ... all rushing by in a torrent of distraction.  Now things are settling down ... as I wanted them to ... and I can't count on "new" anymore.

I don't want to keep rushing around but I'm not sure I know how to respond without the drama of new pushing me onward.  Right now I am becalmed with no winds of change blowing me toward something.  For the next three weeks, until the house closes and the moving mayhem begins, there is little that needs to be done.  My work project is finished and there's no place I need to go.  I feel antsy, like I should be doing something, making something happen, getting on with things, filling the pipeline, making a plan.

But, part of me is resisting.  Nothing calls to me enough to overcome the lethargy so I'm stuck in this strange, antsy/lethargic state.  Which is probably right where I need to be.  It's probably a signal to go within and find out what's going on.  All of these uncomfortable feelings most likely are resistance and I'm just yearning for more new to distract me.

Diane at Contemplative Photography often seems to be on a parallel path and this morning she included a quote in her blog from Byron Brown's Soul without Shame: 

"Awareness brings a definite quality to your experience: when it is available in an unrestricted way, your mind has a lightness, a clarity, and a cool freshness, almost like the air on a crisp fall day. Things appear bright and new as if you were seeing and hearing them for the first time."

Maybe it isn't "new" that's stopped working.  Maybe it's me that has stopped seeing and hearing things as they are ... fresh and new every day.  Maybe this time is about stopping and bringing awareness to my experience, in an unrestricted way.

Awareness. 
One bird singing along Twitter Alley

Awareness. 
Heart sadness under an avalanche of Jolly Ranchers

Awareness. 
Reflection pool lost in a theme park of distraction

Awareness. 
Child's butterfly kiss in the midst of morning madness

Awareness.
Rainbow arc above the car pool lane

Awareness. 
Overflowing with possibility, offering no promises.

Awareness.

About the image:  Finding Center.  My granddaughter Reyna exploring the phosphorescence exhibit at the Children's Museum in Oakhurst. CA.